Someday
by amkay
Summary: Could they really be together someday? Deidara didn't think so. Sasori could only hope.


Disclaimer: I only wrote this as an experiment to see if I could write something about Sasori and Deidara. They belong to Kishimoto, but I'm sure most of you knew that.

* * *

**Someday**

It's kind of funny how he calls me a brat all the time when, really, he's the more childish one of us. Not to say that it's obvious to everyone—because it's not. Actually, the only reason I even know that Sasori is capable of being so childish is because I'm forced to spend so much time around him considering we are partners.

I used to think he was an emotionless bastard. And a complete asshole, too, since my first impression of him hadn't been very good. He completely disregarded my art and basically called me pathetic, and he hadn't even given me a chance to prove myself before he concluded that I wasn't going to even last as his partner.

_"So this is my new partner? He looks like the type to die young,"_ I remember him scoffing to Kisame and the Uchiha bastard. Really, just because I was a bit reckless in battle (and maybe a little too confident in the prowess of my art) didn't mean that I was a total idiot. And just because I planned to someday go out with a bang as any true artist would endeavor to become their art, that didn't mean I was going to turn suicidal at the earliest sign of trouble.

But what really annoys me about Sasori other than his skewered view of art is that he can be a real hypocrite sometimes without even realizing it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, brat?" his voice snaps, throwing me out of my thoughts.

I look up from where I'm sitting in the middle of our shared room, the clay I had been molding into an unknown shape losing its form once more as my attention wanders. I easily ignore Sasori's irritated glance at the clay and say innocently, "Just working on a new technique, Sasori no Danna. Did you need something, un?"

He doesn't answer and simply moves around me to sit on his bed. I watch curiously as he pulls out one of his scrolls and summons a puppet from it, immediately pulling out some of his tools and working on whatever the hell he deems needed fixing. Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the clay in my hands and start over from the very beginning.

It was a while before the silence was broken, but for once it was my partner that does so.

"Have you changed your mind yet?" he asks me, his expressionless gaze still on the puppet but I can almost feel the weight of his attention on me.

I can't help but sigh and set the clay back in my pouch, knowing that I won't be getting to it anytime soon. Now that he's brought _it_ up again, it's likely that neither of us will get a moment's peace tonight.

"No, un. And despite how much you seem to believe, Sasori, you won't convince me otherwise." He had tensed when I dropped his title, something I only ever do when I'm completely serious, but I ignore the reaction. It's his fault that I'm saying this since he brought the subject up, and I was getting tired of having to constantly repeat myself.

I was going to have to say this as simply yet firmly as possible. It would only leave him better off in the end if he understood now before it was too late.

I continue on, my single blue eye holding his gray-brown eyes. "I'm sorry, Sasori, but I'm never going to change my mind on this. I don't know why you think I will, but it would be better for you to accept my decision now rather than later." _Before it's too late_, is left unsaid but he clearly hears it judging by the way his shoulders stiffen and his grip tightens almost imperceptibly on his little puppet.

"Don't be a fool, you stupid brat," he mumbles, glaring at me as if that would change my mind.

But after so many years of being his partner he already knows how futile it is to try and change my mind once it's made up. I am, according to the man himself, one of the most ridiculously stubborn people he's had the displeasure of meeting in his life. Yet that doesn't seem to stop him from trying to outdo me, and I guess I can respect him for his determination.

That doesn't mean I appreciate it, though.

"Sasori no Danna," I sigh and get up. He seems ready to push me away when I sit next to him on the bed and pull him into a hug, but his feelings rule out in the end and he clings to me very much like the child he used to be. I let my hands rub soothing circles into his back that I know he barely feels thanks to his wooden body, but he still feels nonetheless. Sometimes I find this inconvenient considering it is part of the reason he made me the offer in the first place, but I guess I'm a little selfish too since I like the fact that I'm the only one he ever let do this to him.

"Don't go," he whispers into my collarbone, his tone sounding helplessly lost. For a moment, that tone coming from my partner's voice makes me feel guilty. Guilty because I'm slowly leaving him just as his parents had all those years ago. Guilty because I'm the first person he's reached out to in so long and yet I'm still becoming gradually distant as the days pass.

But deep down I know that he's finally beginning to accept the fact that one day he'll open his eyes to look across the room and my side will be empty. So I shove my remorse away and just keep offering him the comfort he needs.

Though he doesn't do so very often, Sasori eventually falls asleep, his arms wrapped around my slightly taller form as I lay on the bed next to him. I decide not to escape from his hold despite how easily I can, content for the moment to just let him hold me while he sleeps. But my thoughts are nowhere near as calm as his breathing, stirred up by his latest attempt to change my mind.

_To live for eternity by his side_, I muse, gazing sightlessly at the dark ceiling of our room. _To be with him forever and never be alone again._ That's what he offered me. The chance of a lifetime that anyone would be a fool to decline, and I was that fool.

But an even bigger fool is the one holding me now. Akasuna no Sasori, the one person I've ever respected enough to call my Danna, is a fool for wanting the one person in the world he'll never really have. It's not like I've never given his offer any thought; I most certainly had. The idea of living forever with him sounds more appealing than I'll ever admit . . . but eternity and I just don't mix.

I was human. Mortal. My life was insignificant compared to the lifespan of the universe, and I was never meant to live past my time. It's one of the reasons I believe that my art is True Art rather than just a bunch of explosions of color, light, and sound.

"Art is an explosion because life is just as transient, un," I whisper to myself. I focus on the feeling of my partner's arms wrapped so securely around me and wonder, _Could I really stay like this forever? Falling asleep and then waking up till the end of time in his arms?_

The answer is one that makes my heart cry while I smile ruefully.

"I can't stay with you forever, Sasori no Danna," I say quietly to him, twisting carefully so that I face him without waking him. He looks so innocent and happy whenever he falls asleep with me. It hurts that someday he'll realize that these moments are only temporary. Fleeting like my art, because I plan on becoming my art someday. "Just like you, I'm going to become art one day because that's what a true artist aspires to do, un. And for me, that means that I can't be what you want me to be, no matter how much I sometimes wish I could."

It's ironic that he calls me a brat when he's the more childish one of us. Sasori believes so much in eternity that he doesn't seem to realize that not everything lasts forever. People say that love can conquer all, even death, but I never believed in love in the first place.

Maybe what Sasori and I share is something that others would call love, but I never believed that he loves me. Not the way a person should love the one they want to spend the rest of their life with. He may have literally offered me eternity, but I think deep down it's only because he doesn't want to be alone anymore. It's not death that he fears, but rather the thought of being left behind again.

He told me what happened to his parents, about how they promised to come back for him but never did because they were killed in the war by Hatake Sakumo, Konoha's White Fang. He told me everything after he trusted me—about his grandmother lying to him and saying that his parents were just on extended missions. How he slowly came to believe that they'd abandoned him because he had done something wrong. How he soon found solace in puppets until the day he realized that they were nothing but mere objects of art (mentally I'd fought with myself to keep the usual retort from slipping out when he said that last bit, and he'd continued talking, oblivious to my momentary distraction). And how he stopped waiting for his parents to return once he found out the truth.

In some ways, Sasori was still that little child waiting for his parents to return. Only this time he was waiting for me . . . but just as before he was waiting for something that would never happen.

I can never bring myself to call what we share love, because I heard somewhere that people make sacrifices for the ones they love. Even though I can comfort Sasori when he needs it, tell him the truth even though it might hurt, and promise to be here for him for as long as I'm around, I still can't bring myself to say those three small words that I know he's yearning to hear. Because even though I may be the one he wants he's not the one I want.

And I can only hope that someday he'll see how futile it is to try holding onto me, to see the truth before the day comes when he reaches out for me only to find nothing but an empty space where I use to be.

I may not be able to give him the promise he wants, the one he deserves, but I can still give him one thing while I'm still here.

"I'm not leaving yet, Sasori," I whisper to his sleeping face. "Not for a while, un." And then I lean forward those last few inches and kiss him gently on the lips. Just as he's always needed.

* * *

AN: Hmm . . . not sure what to say about the ending. For a second, this all seemed a bit one-sided with Sasori the one wanting for once instead of Deidara. Seriously, a lot of fics are like that with Deidara the one falling in love with Sasori who's usually an outright bastard with supposedly no emotions or not even gay. Yeah, there are some with the two truly falling hard for each other, but I've always been of the opinion that they're a pairing next to impossible.

I've heard the saying that opposites attract, but Deidara and Sasori just seem a little _too_ different to ever fall in love with each other in the Naruto World. Note that I said canon-verse, because there is such a thing as AU and AR. (And OOC, too, but that's rather obvious.)

As for this little one-shot I just wrote, well . . . I was kind of tired reading so many stories with these two acting completely out of character, and I just wanted to try my own attempt at keeping them somewhat more IC than others. I'm sorry to say that I believe I failed. Especially Sasori.

Dear Jashin, he's such a little brat in this one! But I've noticed in canon that he's oddly attached to things he considers "his" such as his favorite puppets Hiruko and Sandaime. Not to mention that I don't think he ever got over his parents' death despite however many years ago that tragedy happened. Perhaps I'm being a bit harsh about the fact that he lost his parents, but I'm only saying these things because I've never had a father in the first place and I think he's lucky to have at least known his (however shortly he may have notwithstanding). I hate that he lost his parents but there's really nothing I could've done to convince Kishimoto to spare him the pain of losing loved ones at such a vital age.

Anyway, back to the more important things . . . like explaining why I wrote these two the way I did.

I see Sasori as a hurt child underneath his indifferent façade; therefore, I decided to play that side of him up a bit more in this one-shot. Truthfully, I don't believe that he ever felt this way for Deidara in canon (even though Kishimoto is a fan of shounen-ai) and Sasori probably isn't even the cuddling type. But the hurt child I believe he secretly was in canon might have done something like this if the case were otherwise. Also taking into account the fact that he never truly grew up, I think Sasori would want to cling to the nearest person he would trust—in this instance, Deidara.

And Deidara's dedication to his art would far outweigh his "love" for Sasori because for so long it had been the only thing in his life he'd trusted. To be honest, I don't think Deidara had a very good life back in Iwa so I decided to go with the theory that he never learned what it was like to love or be loved by someone. In canon he seemed like a rational sort of guy rather than the leap of faith kind, despite how overpowered by his emotions he could get. If Sasori had ever offered him eternity, I think Deidara would've declined, even if he really could love Sasori. Because just as Sasori accomplished with his art, Deidara as a true artist would have already decided early on to become his art.

Love may conquer a lot of things, but I don't think it could beat the level of devotion either of these two have for their art.

That last bit at the end was just my way of showing that, even though Deidara denies his ability to love Sasori, he still feels _something_ for the poor guy. If I hadn't added that this one-shot would've been more one-sided than I would have liked, and even though I occasionally find myself dissatisfied with Sasori, I'm not pissed off enough to leave him hanging (or pointlessly wanting in this case).

In the end, however, Deidara would become his art and Sasori wouldn't get his wish if I were to continue this one-shot. So I decided to end it there.

~amkay


End file.
